It's me or the Cat?
by Tonks-Rocks
Summary: Beta'd by 100percentHarryPotterobsessed, this is a slightly humorous story about the troubles of marriage. RonHermione.


It's Me or the Cat?

**Author's Note:This story is dedicated to Read-Write-and-Review. **

**Note: I am Review in my original profile so try not to get confused. **

**Disclaimer: I admit that I do not own any of the characters or ideas from J.K.R. but this story is mine. Thank you.**

Ronald Weasley was many things. He was, at times, an insufferable git, a loyal friend, a loving husband, and at others, a freight train.

Hermione had been tossing and turning all night, and the last thing she needed were Ron's echoing snores.

And to top it all off, tomorrow was Ron's birthday, and she hadn't gotten him a gift. This was very un-Hermione like of her. However, between her job as an Unspeakable at the Ministry, and the planning for Harry and Ginny's wedding, she simply hadn't the time.

Apparently, all of Ron's snoring was getting to Hermione's head and all she wanted was sleep, and perhaps, some payback. Her many twisted ideas of how to do this could have filled nearly ten scrolls of parchment, each one as ridiculous as the next. She sighed, and thought: _What is the one thing that I can bring into this household that is nuisance to Ron? Besides my nagging, _she added silently. _And perhaps, as a birthday present? _A mere moment later, she sat up ever-so-suddenly and quietly exclaimed, "I've _got _it!" With a faint _pop_ she was gone.

The next morning, Ron woke to the smell of chocolate. After rubbing his eyes for a good ten seconds he looked toward his night stand to see a deluxe package of **Weasley's Wizard Wheezes **latest brand of chocolate: vampire teeth. "_When in mouth everything tastes like chocolate_!" read the label. "WARNING: May have some blood taste to it, NOT recommended for people who become uneasy or faint at the sight or taste of blood."

"Hmmmm... Typical Fred and George, always looking for a cheap way to test their new products," sighed Ron. Reluctantly dragging himself out of bed, Ron went out into the living room to see what else was awaiting him. He found Hermione reading the paper against the kitchen counter.

"Morning, Sweetie," she greeted. "I'm glad to see that you're finally awake. Your presents are on the table."

_Blimey! I'm twenty-six and I still get presents. Is that great or what? _thought Ron.

From Harry, there was a new wizards chess board and game pieces. Mum had sent some of her delicious homemade treats. He received some new dragon scale gloves from Charlie, a post card from Bill and Fleur, and a book from Percy (which he quickly through into the bin.)

Then he heard it..."_Meow"._ Ron quickly looked down to see a ginger-haired cat, and jumped about a foot.

"What in bloody hell is that _thing_ doing here?"

"Do you like him?" Hermione, said beaming. "I've been calling him Crookshanks Jr."

"Why, Hermione, _why?_ You know I hated that bloody cat!"

"Ronald, be _reasonable_. Crookshanks passed on long ago. Even Kneazle blood couldn't keep him alive _that_ long. Besides, he was only going after Wormtail."

"You have to be joking, 'Mione. Please tell me you're joking. That thing almost ripped my head off."

"I most certainly am not, and honestly Ronald, that was thirteen years ago."

"Well I want that cat GONE! **It's me or the cat."**

"Don't be ridiculous. Just give him a chance, he might grow on you."

"Hermione..." Ron sighed.

"_Please?"_ she begged.

"Alright, but only _one_ chance."

Hermione smiled, and flipped the paper back open.

"Stupidcatwhynotadoginstead," grumbled Ron.

"What was that Ronald?"

"Nothing, nothing."

**One hour later...**

"'Mione, have you seen my favorite pant-" _riiiipppp_ "Nevermind, I've found them," Ron said as he held up the now ruined pants with orange fur all over them, while Crookshanks Jr. scurried off somewhere else.

**One week later...**

_RIIIIPPP._

"Alright, Hermione what did I do to deserve ALL of my pants being ripped by that orange demon over there?" yelled Ron, frustrated.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Hermione responded slyly, turning away from him.

"Oh yeah? Well look at the pile of pants your dear Demon Jr. has gotten hold of."

"Why are you wearing so much make-up?" questioned Ron as an after-thought. He had only just taken a good look at Hermione's face.

"Ronald... oh, _how_ I am going to say this kindly? Frankly, your snoring is absolutely unbearable! I haven't gotten a decent night of sleep for_ two_ weeks! TWO weeks, Ron! I HAVE HUMONGOUS BAGS UNDER MY EYES, FOR MERLIN'S SAKE!" screamed Hermione, letting all of her previously bottled-up words and emotions flow from her mouth.

"Why didn't you just say so, Hermione?" responded Ron calmly.

"Well...," started Hermione, a little taken aback at Ron's tranquil attitude, "I suppose I wasn't thinking straight..."

"Sorry about the pants," she added lamely. "He wasn't supposed to rip them." As Hermione muttered that final apology, about five "_Meows"_ erupted from the corner where the cat had been.

"WHAT! Bloody hell, not kittens, wait a minute _kittens_?" stuttered Ron, lost. "That means that...Crookshanks Jr. is a _GIRL_?!"

"Oh, Ron," whined Hermione, looking 7 years-old for the first time he could recall, "they're so adorable, can't we keep- ?"

At that moment, however, Ron cut Hermione off "NO _WAY!_ WE ARE NOT, I REPEAT NOT-" _meow._

"Oh, who am I kidding, lets keep them but if they attack my shirts they're gone."

**He turned once again to grin at Hermione, but found her dead-asleep on the couch. **

**And was she ****_snoring?_**

Please Review no not me Review grrrrr. Just review.


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